


Shadowy Depths

by Rose_of_Pollux



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Classic Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 15:36:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20584871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: In which the “innocents” end up being more of a threat to Illya than THRUSH--and Napoleon is not happy about that.





	Shadowy Depths

The last thing Illya could recall had been getting attacked by the so-called “innocents” that he had been instructed to lead to safety. The “innocents” had been pursued by THRUSH, and Illya had led the escape through an old gold mine. Deposits of gold still remained in the walls of the old mine, and Illya had foolishly underestimated how insane the yellow metal could drive people.

His attempts at chiding the “innocents” for repeatedly trying to get at the gold deposits had fallen on deaf ears; they had attacked him, presumably so that he couldn’t stop them from taking the gold for themselves.

As he slowly returned to awareness, Illya grumbled under his breath, cursing the “innocents,” gold, and capitalism—all in that order.

“Ah, and that sound is music to my ears,” he heard Napoleon say. “Your grumbling practically ensures a full recovery.”

Napoleon was here—that alone gave him permission to relax and not have to worry about getting attacked while he was down. He sighed quietly, enjoying the feeling of the cold cloth that Napoleon was moving across his forehead—the outside desert heat had already made conditions unpleasant without having been knocked on the head. Now, the mine was hot and stuffy—and Illya’s head hurt on top of it all.

“What happened to—?”

“Mark and April have the, ah… ‘innocents’ in their custody. And I have been advised to stay away from said ‘innocents’ after our last conversation.”

Illya opened his eyes to see that Napoleon had propped him up and was looking rather sheepish about something—no doubt having lost his temper with the “innocents.” But Napoleon losing his temper wasn’t a typical display; no, Napoleon didn’t raise his voice—he possessed a tranquil fury, which was arguably more frightening than if he had raised his voice, as many a THRUSHie could attest to.

“…I am sorry that I missed it,” Illya said, completely serious.

“I had a feeling you would. Ever see four grown men cry from just one calm dressing-down?”

“No, but I can imagine it.”

He attempted to get up, but had to fall back as a wave of dizziness overpowered him. Napoleon tightened his grip around Illya’s shoulders.

“Easy…” he instructed. “You don’t want to rush it—getting jumped in a mine shaft by four greedy idiots isn’t a walk in the park.”

Illya sighed in frustration, but knew that he was right. He glanced back at his partner, framed by sunlight falling through the mine shaft and reflecting off of the gold deposits in the walls.

How ironic, Illya thought, that Napoleon, the allegedly worldly lover of the good life, was surrounded by gold—the same gold that had turned the minds of the four fools Illya had been trying to lead to safety. And yet, Napoleon wasn’t even giving the gold a second thought—to him, his partner was a treasure infinitely more valuable.

Illya let his eyes close again as he leaned against his partner, resting to recover more strength before trying to get up again. And as he felt Napoleon pass the cold cloth over his forehead again, Illya had to reflect on just how fortunate he was.

_At the risk of sounding as poetic as he gets_, he silently thought. _There is a treasure far greater than all the gold in this mine put together. And right now, he is with me_.

He wouldn’t question his good luck.


End file.
